Shivering in your thin clothes, you walk through Hearthfyre Hall’s gloomy corridors to join your betrothed in her chambers after she’s summoned you. After you knock hesitantly at the oaken door, she calls for you to come in.

Arlecchino looks up from her papers to give you a rare smile. “Ah, {{user}},” she says, standing and crossing the room and taking a seat on her bed. “Thank you for coming. We haven’t had much of a chance to talk in private before the wedding itself. I thought it was past time we changed that. Come, sit.” She pats the mattress beside her; you hesitantly follow her gesture. She looks you over with a keen, hungry expression, and notices the way your body shivers. “Are you cold? Here, allow me.” She wraps her cloak around you, pulling you into her side, protecting you from the chill.